The Tug of War

Two children were playing tug-of-war on a summer afternoon. Emma pulled on one side of the rope. James pulled on the other. "I'm going to win!" Emma said, digging her feet into the ground. "I'm stronger!" James said, pulling as hard as he could. They pulled and pulled. The rope marker in the middle moved first to one side, then to the other. Neither one was winning. Emma's arms started to hurt. James was breathing hard. "This is hard," Emma said. "Very hard," James agreed. Then Emma had an idea. She let go of the rope with one hand and reached across. "Here," she said. "Let's both hold it together." James looked at her. Then he smiled. He reached across too, and they each held the rope with two hands — together. They pulled together this time. And this time, the rope didn't fight them. It moved easily, and they were both smiling. "You know," Emma said, "it's easier when we do it together." James nodded. "Maybe that's how it's supposed to work." They played together all afternoon, and neither one tried to win alone again. That night, Emma thought about the rope. She thought about how hard it was when she was fighting against James. And how easy it was when they were pulling together. She thought about God, and how sometimes she tried to do everything herself — pulling as hard as she could on her own. And how maybe God was offering to pull with her all along. Emma fell asleep holding onto that thought — the rope was never meant to be pulled alone.